


system error

by twentytwentytwo



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Caretaker Hank, Fluff, M/M, Sick Connor, hankcon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:47:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24691771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twentytwentytwo/pseuds/twentytwentytwo
Summary: “At this high a temperature, my system can’t function as well as it normally does….”“Well, shit, Connor,” Hank said. “Sounds like you’re sick.”A particularly nasty sample causes Connor's system to malfunction. Hank takes care of him.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Comments: 5
Kudos: 142





	system error

Connor walked around the crime scene, keeping one ear on Hank’s conversation with Ben. “The firemen suspect arson, judging by how quickly the house burned,” Ben said.

“And you said an android woman lived here?” Hank asked.

“It’s a suspected android hate crime,” Ben said. “S’why Fowler wanted you and Connor to take a look around.”

Connor stared at the skeletal remains of the house, wooden support beams blackened and weak.

Hank came up behind Connor, resting a hand on his shoulder. “You okay?”

Connor put his hand over Hank’s. “The android who lived here, did she…?” 

“She made it out,” Hank said gently. “Getting repaired at New Jericho as we speak.”

Connor nodded, relieved, before continuing his inspection. He’d noticed a dark liquid surrounding the perimeter of the house. He knelt down, dipping a finger into a concentrated puddle of the stuff. He paused before bringing it to his mouth, looking back at Hank, who was grimacing. “At least it’s not blood?” Connor offered.

Hank wrinkled his nose, unmoved. “Doesn’t make it any less gross.” 

Turning away so Hank couldn’t see, Connor brought the sample to his mouth. _Carbon, hydrogen, oil, benzene, rubber, sulfur-_

“You can look now,” Connor said, standing up and turning back around. “The liquid surrounding the house suggests that the perp used tires and gasoline to set the house on fire.”

“Fuckin’ bastard,” Hank said. “Think all his fingerprints got burned away?”

“Maybe not,” Connor said. He zeroed in on the few unburnt sections of the house, beginning analysis. _System error._ Connor frowned, immediately trying again. _System error._

“Anything?” Hank asked.

“My analyzing capabilities aren’t working as they should,” Connor said. He ran a diagnostic. His analyzing and preconstructing abilities seemed to be down. There were flashing warnings that the electrons in his thirium were slowing down. Connor wanted to look closer at the chemical balance of his thirium, but the diagnostic ended before completion. Connor blinked.

Hank moved closer to Connor. “What’s going on?” 

“The sample I took is negatively affecting me,” Connor said.

Hank frowned. “How so?”

“When I take samples, they go into my bloodstream,” Connor said. “Usually, my body temperature raises slightly to burn them out of my system.”

“Fuckin’ Kamski,” Hank muttered.

“The components of the sample I took seem to be more difficult to burn out,” Connor continued. “At this high a temperature, my system can’t function as well as it normally does….” 

“Well, shit, Connor,” Hank said. “Sounds like you’re sick.”

“Androids can’t get sick,” Connor reminded him.

Hank pressed a hand against Connor’s cheek. “Jesus, you’re burning up,” he said. Connor shivered at the contact. Hank’s hand felt like ice. “You cold?” Hank asked.

“I can’t seem to regulate my temperature sensors,” Connor admitted, crossing his arms. Hank took off his jacket, slipping it around Connor’s shoulders.

“Gonna tell Ben we’re leaving,” Hank said.

“Hank,” Connor said, taking a dizzying step forward. “I’m really fine,” he protested weakly, as Hank steadied him by the shoulders. Connor’s lagging optical sensors focused on Hank’s face, eyebrows knit together with concern.

“You’re not fine,” Hank said. “I’m takin’ you home.”

_

Connor lulled in and out of stasis on the drive home. He woke up at a red light to Hank looking over at him. “Eyes on the road,” Connor murmured, eyes half lidded. Hank just shook his head, smiling slightly. Connor closed his eyes.

When Connor opened them again, they were home. Still dizzy, Connor leaned heavily on Hank to make it through the front door and to the couch. Sumo laid down beside the couch, whimpering. “It’s okay,” Connor told him, patting his head.

Hank took the comforter off their bed and laid it over Connor before sitting next to him on the couch.

“I’m really fine, Hank,” Connor said. “I suspect the sample will burn out of my system in a few hours.” 

Hank pulled the comforter more snugly around Connor, gently tugging him into a sleeping position. “You need to rest.”

Head resting in Hank’s lap, Connor quirked an eyebrow at Hank. “Don’t you need to move?”

Hank scoffed. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“But the case-”

“The case can wait,” Hank said firmly.

Connor pulled Hank down by the collar of his shirt, gently kissing him.

Hank’s mouth quirked to the side. “What was that for?”

“I just love you,” Connor said simply.

Hank combed his fingers through Connor’s hair. “I love you, too. Now rest." 

**Author's Note:**

> me, inventing ways for androids to imitate human sickness: god i love sickfics
> 
> hmu on tumblr @charmingnines


End file.
